A Troubling Truth
by BossPotter
Summary: The final battle has been fought and lost, leaving the Order to fend for themselves. To protect what is left of the Order and her family, Hermione commits and unspeakable evil. Sixteen years later, how will this affect her son and the lives of the Wizardi
1. Chapter 1: A Deadly Error

Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or any other related characters. All the other characters I have made up and based on people I know.

A/N–This story is **not** rated M for anything sexual (although rape will be mentioned). The rating is for gore and child-abuse. Zip your pants back up.

**Chapter One: A Deadly Error**

Ronald Weasley, a twenty-one year-old Auror in training, was running towards a small farmhouse at breakneck speed. The gravel he was kicking up made a thick sort of cloud around him, and made him very paranoid, constantly stopping to look back. Certain there was noone following him, he made it up to the door, and knocked in a hurried manner.

Remus Lupin grumbled at the sound, and disentangled himself from his fiancé, Tonks. Wondering who would be coming to call this late in the evening, he made his way to the front door, pausing just as he was going to open it. "Name and business," he called in a horse, sleep-filled voice.

"Remus! It's Ron, you need to open up and listen to me...we lost contact with Harry this morning and need your help!" His voice was shaking with panic, his blue eyes wide in terror.

The door swung open and Remus immediately grabbed Ron by the shoulders. "How could you lose contact with him? I thought that the only way that could happen is if he was to die..." Remus's eyes went wide as well as his voice trailed off in realization. He let go of Ron and sunk into his old and time-worn sofa in despair. Ron shut the door and came in proper, kneeling in front of Remus.

"We might be wrong, he may not be...he could have just had his ring cut off his finger. We need to find him to make sure, but he's not at his flat. He left a note though, and I was hoping you knew what it meant...Hermione thinks she knows but..." Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

_I have left. You can find me at GH._

_When I come back, I will tell you where she is hiding._

–_Love, Harry_

Remus stared at the words for a long time and then smiled bitterly. "I imagine the "GH" is what has you stumped?" Ron nodded, and Remus stood up. "Godric's Hollow, was Hermione right?"

"Of course she was," Ron said, "but how do I get there? Last time I was there, you took me with Harry and Hermione, and I don't know my way...what are you doing?" Ron asked as Remus walked over to a small closet in the kitchen. Ron followed, and saw Remus take out a small box. He took a small jar of jelly out of it and handed it to Ron.

Ron stared. "I'm not really hungry..."

"It's a portkey that goes to Godric's Hollow. I don't know where in the village it takes you exactly, as this is a very old portkey that I didn't make. If he's on the lot his parents died on, you'll find it by the very large fence around it." Remus stared at Ron nervously. "I'm sure his communication ring just got cut off, right?"

Ron gulped. "Yea, of course," he said without any real conviction. "But, y'know, _just in case_, it would be a good idea for you to head to the Burrow. Tonks too. I'll meet you both there in an hour or so, ok?"

Silence fell for a moment, until Remus agreed and ran to get Tonks and Ron mumbled "1...2...3...," and was gone.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Hermione Granger groaned as she hoisted herself off of the couch. Being seven months pregnant was stress enough without having to deal with her husband and best friend being...well...themselves. This wasn't the first time Harry had gone missing, in fact, it had become downright commonplace since his dear Ginny had gone missing around ten months ago. This was, however, the first time they had not been able to contact him as well as the first time that he left a note.

Hermione chewed her lip. The note was not sitting right with her. Why had Harry gone to Godric's Hollow (for she was sure that's where he had gone) in the middle of the night and not taken either herself or Ron? He **hated** going to that place, **especially** at night. As she mulled it over in her head, the baby gave a kick.

"Shush, you," Hermione said, swatting at her own stomach, "I've had about as much of you as I can handle. It's bad enough you've got me eating Fred and George's flavored asparagus's that made my mouth turn orange and have me peeing all the time, can't you give me a moment to think?"

Another kick.

Hermione laughed. It was hard to stay angry at something you couldn't properly see, after all. "How about I read to you, that seems to calm you down." Another kick. "Alright...how about..._Hogwarts: A History_."

The baby didn't move, so Hermione pulled down another book. This continued until there was a pounding on the door. Waddling over as fast as she could, Hermione looked out of the peephole. It was Remus.

"Business?" Hermione asked before opening.

"Ron has left for Godric's Hollow, and I wanted to know if you would like to come with Tonks and I to the burrow," Remus asked through the door.

Without opening the door Hermione considered it. "What do you think baby? Should we stay and wait for Daddy?" The baby kicked and she smiled. "Sorry Remus, baby and I will stay." She saw Remus nod and turn down the walk. She grew worried, however. If Ron had sent Remus and Tonks to the burrow, that means he thinks it's serious. With that thought, she ran to the bathroom to pee for the tenth time that morning.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Godric's Hollow was a creepy place, Ron decided as he walked down the streets. There were far too many spiders on the old buildings for one, and the old stone roads made his feet seem even louder than they normally were. Not entirely sure where he was headed, he just kept walking until one road would let and then double back to take another. After nearly twenty minutes of this, Ron was getting frustrated. How hard could it be to find a small lot of land with a giant-assed fence around it? With an impatient kick at a loose stone, he stopped to try and remember. Was the old potter house on Canary Road or Mane Road? His thoughts were interrupted quite abruptly by a scream of pain. Ron jumped and turned down Mane Road where he was sure the sound had come from. Running as fast as his tired legs would allow, he saw the fence at the very end of the Road.

Another scream, this one in outright agony. With a stab of horror, Ron realized he recognized the voice of the one screaming— Harry.

Ron ran to the fence just as a weak voice yelled "Avada Kedavra!" He froze. The one casting the spell was Harry...had it reached its target? The green light from the lot was blinding, and when Ron did look again, he saw that some of the fence next to him had been blown away. Grinning, certain now that Harry had been dueling with Voldemort and that the curse had been effective, Ron made to climb through the hole.

High pitched laughter echoed, and stopped Ron. "Is that all you got, Potter? I thought you were going to kill me? Well...what...ohhhhhhh...poor boy. You thought my snake was a Horcrux, didn't you? That is why you killed my poor Nagini, isn't it? Tsk tsk, you're mistake will cost you and your friends dearly. Goodbye, Harry. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The green light, but this time Ron heard his best friend scream, and then heard nothing but the unearthly silence that follows death.

_It couldn't be true...the Order...the Ministry...they couldn't have actually lost..._

_-----------------------------------------_

Final note: There will only be one or two more chapters that center around JK Rowlings characters. After that, most will be mine, with scatterings of JK Rowling.

Feedback is loved.


	2. Chapter 2: Hermione, Interrupted

**Chapter Two: Hermione, Interrupted**

Within two months of Harry having lost, the whole of the Wizarding World had been turned upside down. People who had once admantly been against Voldemort pleged allegience to save their families, and those who still refused would go "missing", only to have their bodies found months later in mass graves.

The Order of the Phoenix was in disarray, everyone in hiding and terrified that they would be found. They all had good reason to be worried by this, as a majority of the Order had already been found and killed. Molly Weasley's hair was turning steadily whiter from the stress and horror as her kids were picked off one by one. Remus had been found dead in his flat, apparently having killed himself out of despair.

By the time Hermione was at full term with her baby, the Order had dwindled down to seven members- Herself, Ron, Molly, Mad-Eye, Tonks, Fred, and Ginny. Well, nobody was certain about Ginny, as she was still missing. To keep Molly calm Ginny was still counted, but nobody _actually_ thought she was still alive.

The Order was lucky, however. Whole family trees had been wiped out in a very systematic way that reminded Hermione strongly of Hitler's reign during the second great Muggle war. The major difference, she realized, was that Voldemort had been very open from the start, never even trying to make the Wizarding World believe he had good intentions—instead he had come out and said that every Muggleborn and Squib were to come to him immediately to be killed, or else be hunted like the animals they were.

When that proclamation, "Proclamation Purity" as it was called, came out Hermione had been terrified. Voldemort wanted her dead because she was in the order to begin with—now he had a very legal reason to kill her. Ron, worried for his wife and unborn child, had put her into a muggle flat that would make it harder for Voldemort to locate her from. The only real downside was that Ron couldn't visit her very often, else he could be followed. She was in a constant state of panic with every creak of the floorboards outside her door, and felt certain that she would soon be sporting hair to rival Mrs. Weasley's.

Hermione had just settled herself in for yet another lonely night late in December when there was a nock on the door. She froze. Nobody was due to visit her for another night yet and nobody would be foolish enough to make a surprise visit in times like these. With a heart swollen nearly as much as her stomach, she made her way slowly to the door.

"Come now, Weasley, you know better than to keep a guest waiting." came a very smooth voice from just beyond the door.

Hermione began to shake. _This is it_, she though, _I'm going to die...just like everybody else._

A voice in the back of her head protested. She couldn't die. She had a baby to think of...she'd just have to find another way out of the flat. Quietly as she could, she moved towards the window, and looked out. She was on the tenth floor...the fall would surely kill her and her child. The choice, it seemed, was between dying at Voldemort's hand or dying by her own. With one last glance towards the door, she jumped.

Ron Weasley was sitting miserably on a worn sofa. _Some Christmas Eve_, he thought. Here he was, sitting around doing nothing, while all around him friends and family were dying. His thoughts strayed to his wife, all alone with a baby in her belly. He allowed himself a smile. _It's amazing that in a time like this new life could still happen._

Still, new life meant another life that had to be protected, and he had no idea how he was going to do it. True, this kid would not be able to be _legally_ executed, as it would be a half-blood, but Ron didn't put it past Voldemort to pass new laws saying that the kids of traitors were traitors themselves. His happiness brought from thinking of being a father forgotten, a frown appeared on his too-young face. Was this the life he was condemned to? One of hiding and fighting, always with his head turned to see behind him? Who would cover his front? For a moment he seriously considered plucking his own eye out to get a fake one like Moody has. That way, he imagined, he could see _everything_.

Maybe seeing everything wouldn't be such a good idea though. So much was going on, see all of the deaths behind him might distract him from seeing was what ahead—his unborn child's life, for example. Determined to keep his mind occupied so thoughts of Hermione all alone would not bother him, he thought back to Harry's last letter. What had Harry meant by "When I come back, I shall tell you where she is hiding"? It didn't make any sense to Ron...Harry wasn't hiding anybody. Chewing his lips, Ron decided to turn instead to a different letter, one from Mad-Eye.

_Ronald–_

_In case this is intercepted, I need to be very frank. HE is looking for something_,_ so you need to be very aware of what items of Harry's you are in possession of. Keep an inventory. Make a list. Do something. We don't know what HE's after yet, but you can bet it's important. When I know more, I'll tell you. _

_Assume the worst,_

_M_.

Ron was perplexed. He had all of Harry's things, yes, but nothing looked important to him. Aside from a jumble of letters written in code, everything was pretty average. One last time Ron went through Harry's trunk. He had taken Moody's advice and kept a list, but still nothing was sticking out.

_Socks_

_Pants_

_Shirts_

_Sneakoscope_

_Letters (coded and otherwise)_

_Photo album_

_Invisibility cloak_

_The Map_

_Books_

_Underwear with his name on it _

_Order papers_

Of all of that the thing that would interest Voldemort most would be the papers, but he knew most all of it by now. No surprises with them. Ron growled...he hated loose ends. During his Auror he had become a stickler for details, and whatever Voldemort wanted would surely prove to be a huge detail. With a growl, he gave up. It was late, and he wanted to be well rested for Hermione tomorrow. Within a moment, he was almost asleep.

Hermione screamed as the wind whipped around her. Who knew that jumping out of a window would mess up your hair this badly? She closed her eyes and willed herself to pass out...she didn't want to see the ground rushing at her face. As her head collided with somebody's potted plant on the seventh floor, she got her wish.


	3. Chapter 3: Deal Or No Deal?

**Chapter Three: Deal or No Deal?**

Hermione blearily opened her eyes, feeling disoriented and a little shocked. The room she was in was not white—she wasn't dead. As her eyes become more focused, she saw very old brick all around her.

A bone-chilling scream shook her to full consciousness.

With a jolt, Hermione tried to stand up only to realize that she was tied up. She tried to scream, but found her mouth to be full of fabric. In her panic however, she did manage to register that she was not tied to a bed, but instead a chair. Which, she mused, was always a good thing. Trying to breathe deeply, to assess her situation, she also realized that she was dangerously close to vomiting. Which, she mused, wasn't a good thing with that fabric jammed in her mouth. It didn't matter how hard she tried however, it just wouldn't leave. _Damned magic_, she thought bitterly.

The scream stopped. Hermione strained to listen. There was a dragging sound, and then more screaming, this time from a large group. Try as she might, she couldn't block the screams out. Within moments however, the group screams had turned back into one.

"Ah, it seems Lucius has decided on his next victim. That's good—I rather detest it when the whole room begs for life." Voldemort said, sweeping into the room and staring directly at Hermione. "They're too loud, you see," he offered as an explanation.

"But enough of these depressing matters, I have other things to discuss with you, Ms. Weasley." he waved his wand carelessly, and the fabric disappeared from her mouth.

"What do you want?" She snarled, sounding much tougher than she felt.

"Now now Ms. Weasley! That's no way to talk to the man who saved your life, now is it?" he asked with a smile on his lips, but a hungry sort of look in his eyes.

Hermione stared at his grotesque figure. She had heard rumors that he had changed, certainly, but she hadn't believed them. She hadn't wanted to believe them. Now, here was the truth, staring her in the face. His face had become more human, with almond shaped eyes and stronger cheeks. He had hair that, like everything else on his face, was sickeningly familiar—he looked like Harry.

Hermione looked away. She couldn't stand it. It was so _wrong_, so _unfair_. Those weren't his eyes to take, his hair to emulate, or his cheeks to wrinkle as the lips smirked. Still turned away from him, she decided on asking a different question. "Why did you save me?"

He laughed a cold, high-pitched laugh. Well, at least _that_ hadn't once been Harry's. "It must seem rather unlike me from where you're sitting, I'm sure. See, you're of much more use to me alive than you would be dead." He waited, as if giving her time to soak it in.

_He really is too dramatic, honestly_, Hermione thought. "What use am I to you?"

"Glad you asked." He leaned in very close to her. "Where, _my dear,_ is Ginevra Potter?"

Shock shot through Hermione's body. "What are you talking about? Harry and Ginny weren't married! Ginny's been missing for _months_ now."

Voldemort stared. "Surely you are jesting me Ms. Weasley. I don't take kindly to being joked with." His voice was cold as he raised his wand to point to her stomach. "You know, I've often heard that a Cruciatus Curse can severely damage a child, but I've always wondered to what extent it can damage an **unborn **child," he said conversationally.

"No..." Hermione said hollowly, and fought against her ropes with a renewed vigor.

"Of course, if you were to tell me where Mrs. Potter is..."

"I've told you," Hermione said desperately, "they weren't married! I'm telling you the truth!"

Now it was his turn to stare. Hermione knew full well what he was doing, and she allowed to use his Legilimency skills on herself. He growled in disapproval seeing she was telling the truth and screamed an "Avada Kedavra" at his own clock. It burst into flames and made Hermione shriek.

"Now you listen to me,_ little girl_, I'm going to cut you a deal. I need something that you can get for me, and in exchange I will spare you and your friends pitiful lives. Understood?" His face was red, and his voice was dangerously quiet."

What choice did Hermione have? Without even knowing what she was agreeing to, she nodded.

-0-00-0-0--00--00-0-0-0-

Ron didn't sleep well. He kept dreaming about the last night he had ever spent in the company of both Harry and Hermione. He and Hermione had invited Harry over since he had been entirely too distant since Ginny had gone missing.

"_You two don't have to go to any trouble on my part," Harry had mumbled in protest as Hermione and Ron had told him that they were going to dinner._

"_Oh honestly, Harry! It's just dinner, we're not painting Snape's nails pink or anything! Now, get on your coat. It's chilly and I don't have the patience to nurse you back to health." Hermione said a stern voice._

"_You could nurse me if you wanted to Hermione," Ron had said, waggling his eyebrows._

_Harry had cast the two of them amused glances as Hermione slapped him away playfully. "Ronald, I'm simply too large for these games."_

"_Nonsense. I could still do that thing you like when–" he was cut off by the look on Harry's face and laughed._

"_Let's just go, shall we?" Hermione was blushing as she ushered both boys into the night. The three walked in a comfortable silence all the way to the restaurant. As they sat waiting to get their food, Ron noticed something glimmering around Harry's neck._

"_Hey, what's that?" he asked, pointing at the barely visible gold._

_Harry's eyes had gone wide and he had stood abruptly. "I have to go...I forgot I'm on Order duty tonight."_

"_Harry..." Hermione had said tentatively "You lead the Order...how could you have forgotten?"_

Ron awoke with a start. He suddenly had a very bad feeling. Noticing the flickering streetlight he looked outside. Just across the road, barely visible, was a big black dog.

-00--0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0--0--0-0-0-0

Voldemort was pacing in front of Hermione. "You have all of Potter's possessions, correct?" When Hermione nodded, he continued, "Then you must have some evidence. I need you to find this Ginevra person and retrieve three very important things from her. You will give her this envelope." he walked to a shelf and pulled out a sealed envelope addressed to "Mrs. Potter, England"

Hermione stared at him blankly. "Even if I am to find her, what three things am I to take?_"_

"Oh, you'll find her. For you see, if you don't find her, I will kill all that is left of your family. I will allow you to have your child, and then I shall make you kill it. I will allow you to live, to live and think every day of what you did to the ones you love, think of what you did to your child. Trust me, you'll find Ginevra."

There was a terrible silence that hung in the air after his words. She knew he'd do it, and knew she couldn't let it happen. "What are the three things that I need to retrieve?" she asked, utterly defeated.

He grinned an animal like grin, twisting is pseudo Harry face into something terrifying that made Hermione whimper.

"They have names. Rosetta, Michael, and Alli, I believe. You will bring them to me alive so that I may deal with them as I please."


	4. Chapter 4: Motherly Instinct

A/N–– I know, you hate me. Poor 'Mione

**Chapter Four: Motherly Instinct**

* * *

****

Voldemort flicked his wand again, and Hermione's bondage was over. She stood up gingerly, still too shocked by the news of three Potter kids existing to even think about running for it. "Drink this," Voldemort said, producing a small goblet with a goo-like liquid in it.

Momentarily shaken out of her thoughts by this odd request, Hermione took a step back. "Why? What's in it?"

"Drink it or the deal's off." Voldemort said harshly.

Trying very hard not to think about what the potion could possibly be, she took it from him. _It won't kill me_, she reasoned, _he needs me to be alive_. Shutting her eyes, she gulped it all down in one go. It was, quite possibly, the nastiest potion she had ever tasting, and that included the Polyjuice. It was too thick, for one. It seemed to actually coat her insides. Then, quite suddenly, her baby began to throw a fit inside of her. She sat down, trying to calm down her baby. Another kick made her groan in pain, and then is stopped. The baby stopped moving altogether as the liquid moved on to her stomach. Hermione's eyes went wide and she became enraged.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY CHILD?!?" Hermione roared, her fear quite forgotten.

Voldemort just smiled and pulled out a phial containing a similar looking liquid. "I've simply stopped your baby from being active. Don't worry, this phial contains the antidote. I don't want you having that baby until you've completed our deal. You're dismissed."

Hermione stood there, tears in her eyes, ashamed of what she knew she had to do to her best friends children. "Where am I?" she finally asked weakly.

Voldemort spun to look at her and then grinned. "My new home—Hogwarts."

--

Ron stared at the Grim. He really detested dogs. Well, spiders mostly, but dogs too. Especially Grims, yes, those were his least favorite canine. Forcing himself to look away, he turned to the clock. "Stupid Grim," he muttered, "probably not even real. Just streetlight playing with my mind at...3 in the morning." He glared at the clock as if it had just beaten his mother, and turned grumpily back to the sofa he had been sleeping on. As he lay back down, trying his best to sleep, visions of the Grim kept flashing in his mind.

"Oh, HOLY HELL" he growled. Giving up on sleep, he decided to check and see how Hermione was. Putting his ring to his mouth, Ron whispered "Hermione."

Hermione was still standing the middle of Voldemort's room (was it an office, it looked like one) when her ring finger whispered her name. Voldemorts eyes bulged and Hermione closed her own in horror. Running from the room as fast as her legs would carry her, she made it outside. Chest heaving and eyes still watering, he raised her ring to speak into it. "Ron, I need you to gather all of Harry's things and meet me at my flat. We don't have any time to waste."

Not allowing Ron any time to ask questions, Hermione took off her shoe. "_Portus_," she muttered. She stared at the shoe and wondered what effects a Portkey would have on a child. _Too late_, she mused. "1...2...3..."

Her flat was empty when she arrived. Her door was blown off its hinges and her window was still open. She wasthankful for the first time that she lived in a seedier part of town where loud noises were commonplace. She put the door back on it's frame and shut the window. Sitting on her couch with her head in her hands, she let a howl of misery escape her. Could she actually live with herself if she went through with this deal? These would be _infants_ that she was handing over to the cruelest man in England. Another howl escaped at the empty feeling inside of her. Her own baby wasn't moving anymore, it was probably as close to dead it could be and still live. She curled up on the sofa and waited for Ron.

Hermione didn't have to wait long, as Ron had been right next to Harry's things when she had told him to grab them. Within a minute or so of her having arrived, Ron was dusting himself off in her fireplace. Sitting the trunk down, he ran over to his wife. "Hermione! What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!" he exclaimed. Indeed, Hermione's face was completely pale and drawn, a look that did not suit her at all.

"Ron," she groaned, "sit down. I need your help. What's in Harry's trunk?"

Ron stared at her for a moment, perplexed, and pulled out the list. As Hermione read it over, her eyes focused on the "_Letters (coded and otherwise)_". "Ron, we need to decode these." she said, feeling the horror of what she planned on doing wash over her.

Ron shrugged. "That shouldn't take long," he said "But what exactly are you looking to find?"

"It's not a _what_, it's a _who_. Just do your best for me, I think I may be sick." With that, Hermione rushed to the bathroom to throw up.

Ron opened the first letter. It wasn't in code, and it was from Hermione. Dated "_July 31st, 1992_". Ron threw it aside. For the next hour, he went through every letter in the trunk, and found nothing of importance. He ran to the bathroom to tell Hermione, who's head was still over the toilet. She stared at him in horror. "There _has_ to be something there." She stood up on unsteady legs and hobbled over to the trunk herself—she had forgotten to take to take the other shoe off.

Every book was ripped open, every picture taken out of the album to check the backs, and still there was nothing. With Harry's things strewn all around the room, Hermione sobbed. Ron stared at her at a total loss. Why was this so important to her? What on _earth_ was she looking for? He looked down at the letters and noticed something. "Hey, Hermione," he said while picking up one of the formerly coded letters, "Who is Miss Red?"

Hermione stopped crying and looked up. "Wh-h-hat?" she asked unevenly. She had been crying so hard she had forgotten to breathe.

"Miss Red. He's got a bunch of letters addresses to "_Miss Red, 23 King Street, London_." Ron squinted at the letters. All of them were very short and straight to the point. In fact, there was only one very personal thing about them–Harry had signed them all "Love, HJP"

Hermione grabbed the topmost one and read it.

"_Miss Red— _

_Things are not going so well. Hermione is fine, but Ron is worried. You are very sorely missed. How are they? Please, don't leave, I'll come for you._

_Love,_

_HJP October 30" _

There was silence in the room after Hermione finished reading. _This has to be Ginny_, she realized. Then a thought struck her...why did Harry have a letter that he had sent to her? That didn't make any sense at all. Quickly, Hermione read it again. The date caught her attention– October 30th was the day before the Final Battle. Harry had simply never gotten around to sending it. His loss was Hermione's gain, however, for now there was an address. She grabbed a map out of Harry's Order papers and found King Street.

"Erm...Hermione?" Ron asked uncertainly, "What are you doing? You heard the doctor— no disapparating while pregnant."

There was no reaction to his words. Hermione just kept staring at the map. It was now or never...was it really worth sending three defenseless children to their death? Was it worth Ginny hating her for as long as they both lived? Was it worth defiling Harry's memory like that? Hermione looked over at Ron and the look of concern on his face. _Yes_, she decided,_ it was worth it_. With a sudden businesslike air about her, Hermione put on both her shoes and grabbed the map. "I'll be right back Ronald." With that, she kissed him and was gone.

--

King Street was dark and snow-covered. Hermione was having a very hard time reading the numbers on the small houses that lined the street due to the snow that was falling and her own panic. After falling twice and thinking seriously about blowing up the next car that was parked on the sidewalk, she found what she was looking for. Number 23 had a very large tree and dark blue shutters. It was possibly the only house that didn't have a car in the driveway, and there were no Christmas lights up. It was the least festive house on the street and in turn was also the gloomiest. Taking a few deep breaths, Hermione walked up to the front door. It had just occurred to her how very early in the morning it was, and how unlikely it was that Ginny would appreciate to have a guest at this time. Then again, Ginny probably wouldn't like any guest that was here to take her kids to be killed at _any _time of day.

Deciding now was not the time to be polite and wait for morning, Hermione rapped loudly on the front door. She shivered— it really was too cold for her to be outside. After knocking four times and not getting a response, Hermione was about to scream and bust the door down when a light came on in the living room. She held her breath as the knob turned and the door was flung open. Hermione was in the middle of saying hello to Ginny when she realized the woman in front of her was not Ginny, but a rather old lady with very little hair on her head and far too much on her face.

"Yea?" the old woman said irritably.

Hermione stared. She had no idea what to do. This woman was certainly _not_ Ginny. "I'm uh...looking for a girl...are you Miss Red?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "That's what the mailbox says, innit?"

A horrible sinking feeling came over Hermione. Harry had done a lot of charity work, had this woman just simply been an elderly person he had helped? In the letter though, Harry had said "Love" to this woman and had even mentioned herself and Ron. It didn't add up.

"Is there anybody else living with you? Somebody..._younger_?" Hermione asked, trying desperately to figure this out.

"Just the housekeeper. She keeps to 'erself mostly, don't like my company much, y'know?" Miss Red spit into the snow.

"May I see her? It's very important family business, must be handled right away." Hermione was trying very hard to look as though something very tragic had happened, which wasn't very hard to be honest.

Miss Red sized her up. "She ain't had no visitors before, 'cept that man who never took his damned hat off. I'll have ter ask her if she wants ta see you. What's yer name?"

"Hermione Weasley. It's urgent, tell her that." Hermione said, hardly believing she was going through with this.

"Right. Sit down on the sofa, you damned chilled, and I'll ask her." Red opened the door all the way to allow Hermione through and then took off down a hallway. For a moment, Hermione was a bit put off. There were no baby things to be seen. These kids would be close to four months old, surely there should be some toys around? Footsteps rattled Hermione out of her thoughts.

"The girl says to come into the basement, y'know, where she sleeps and all." That was obviously all Red had to say, because after that she hobbled back down another hall and Hermione open and close a door. Suddenly feeling very scared, Hermione headed to the hall that Miss Red had first went down, and was confronted with a set of steep stairs leading to the basement. It seemed to take an eternity for her to reach the bottom, but the sight that greeted her was unforgettable–Ginny was sitting in a sea of dirty diapers and used tissues.

Before Hermione could say anything, Ginny had launched herself on Hermione. Hermione pulled back only to see Ginny sobbing. "Oh Hermione! I...I...I...I'm so _lonely_! I heard from some Wizards down the street that Harry had died and I..." Ginny couldn't talk any longer–she was sobbing violently. Hermione opened her mouth, and found she couldn't do it. She couldn't take Ginny's kids away. As Hermione moved forward to hug Ginny again, she saw her own bump. Her child wasn't born yet and was still having to suffer. For what felt like the millionth time that day, Hermione fought to work back up her courage.

Ginny wiped her eyes and laughed. "I know, it's a mess. Cleaning up after that old coot and watching my little ones takes up a lot of time. Dirty diapers and tissues are the least of my worries." Ginny suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth. "You haven't met them! Come Hermione, come meet my babies!"

Despite herself, Hermione was shocked. Ginny was talking about these kids as if Hermione had known about them since birth...it felt off. "Ginny...," she said tentatively, "When did you have them?"

Ginny stared. "You mean...Harry didn't tell you about us?" When Hermione shook her head, Ginny sighed. "Well, that _does_ explain why you haven't visited. They were born August 13th. I imagine you didn't know that we got married then either?" Hermione shook her head again. "Well, now you now. So, if you didn't know about their birthday or that Harry and I were married, I imagine that you didn't come to congratulate me...why did you come?"

As Hermione opened her mouth, there was a cry from behind a curtain. Ginny shot Hermione and apologetic smile and headed to tend to the child. A moment later, gentle shushing sounds met Hermione's ears. "Hush now Alli, go to sleep. Be a good girl, shhhhh."

A new, terrifying, idea shot through Hermione's head. What if Ginny said no? Hermione's stomach lurched, and a massive pain attacked her inners. This was no time to be polite, no time to be kind, no time to care about how this affected Ginny or the kids. A primal instinct swept over Hermione, the same instinct that lead Lily Potter to die for Harry—Hermione was taking Ginny's kids, no matter what. Her unborn child was at stake. Creeping around the curtain, she pulled out her wand and aimed. Ginny turned around after having put Alli back down and stared , shocked, at Hermione. "What are you doing?"

Hermione just stepped forward, "Petrificus Totalus."

As Ginny Potter hit the floor, Hermione Weasley gathered the tiny infants in her arms and disapparated to Hogsmeade.


	5. Chapter 5: Delivery

**Chapter Five: Delivery**

The walk from Hogsmeade to the large Hogwarts doors that night was the longest ever. Hermione was having great trouble keeping the children in her arms—three kids aren't so easy to carry at the same time, and it's near impossible to do while pregnant. The only thing that kept her from dropping them was the fact that Voldemort wanted the kids alive.

Snow crunched under Hermione's feet as she finally turned onto the lawn. There were many lights on in the former school, which was both a relief and a rude awakening. She probably wouldn't have to search the school to fin _Him_, but it also threw into relief what exactly she was doing. The wiggling things in her arms were actually made of flesh, and even if they were killed quickly, would still scream. This was her last chance to back out. The wind picked up, making Hermione turn her head. Her eyes landed on the grave of her former Headmaster. _What would he think if he could see her now_, she wondered. She was changing the lives of all the remaining Order members without their consent, and killing her best friends babies.

"Are you going to come in or not?"

Hermione looked up in shock. She hadn't even noticed herself walking to the door. Severus Snape was standing there, looking very bored and slightly annoyed. She bit her lip and shook her head no.

"Here," she said, thrusting the children at Snape, "take them. I don't want to know what's going to happen, just...do what you need to do."

Snape cocked an eyebrow, but didn't take the children. "The Dark Lord needs to see you. Follow me." With that, he stood back to admit Hermione, who was now shaking from renewed fear.

The two walked in silence for a while, neither one paying any attention to the soft cries of the triplets. "I must say, Miss Granger—"

"Weasley. I'm married." Hermione interrupted quickly.

The merest amused smile fell on Snape's lips. "_Weasley_. I'm surprised that you are willing to go through with this. You're not exactly as innocent and sweet as you pretend to be, are you?"

Hermione bristled with indignity. Before she could respond, they had turned a corner and became face-to-face with Bellatrix Lestrange.

"_It's the wee leetle Potty-Wotties!" _Bellatrix looked extremely happy, her face twisted into a grin as she used her mock-baby voice. "I can't wait to get my hands on one of these beasties" Her eyes glinted maniacally at the idea.

"Wh-what are you going to d-do to them?" Hermione asked, trembling. What she was doing was one level of terrible when she thought they were simply going to be killed, but the idea of them in the hands of Bellatrix added to the horror so much so that Hermione was considering running.

Severus glared at Bellatrix and swatted her hand away from the babies. "We're going to the Dark Lord now, Bella. Feel free to explain what you just said in front of Mrs. Weasley to him."

All color left Bellatrix's for a moment, but she quickly recovered. "Just do your job, _Severus_. We all know how...erm..._important_ you are." As the foul woman swept away, Snape glowered. Without another word, he walked briskly down the steps and towards the dungeons, ignoring Hermione's pleas.

"What exactly is going to happen to them? Please...I have to know...please..."

Abruptly, Snape came to a halt outside one of the thick metal doors. "The Dark Lord awaits, Mrs Weasley."

When Hermione turned to ask about the triplets one last time, it was only to find him walking away at a hurried pace. Her arms suddenly feeling like lead, she nudged the door open with her elbow and entered.

-

Ron was worried. It had been nearly two hours since his very pregnant wife had left, and he had no word from her. He was also a little angry—it was Christmas morning, and the remaining Order member were all going to be meeting at the Burrow for the first time since—

Ron couldn't think about it. It still didn't seem real that Harry had lost. It didn't seem real that for the rest of his own life he would be in hiding, trying to avoid a man out for no less than a bloody death. For the first time in his life, Ron was not enjoying his Christmas morning.

There was no tree.

There were no gifts.

There was no over-large family.

There was no over-large family feast.

And, most importantly, there was no rest for the weary.

True, the Order would be meeting at the Burrow, but he doubted that any one of them would be able to concentrate on being happy at Christmastime. It seemed far more likely, Ron thought, that all six of them would sit in a room and discuss how best to hide themselves, or the deaths of their friends.

There was a terrible loneliness in Ron's chest, and wished that Hermione would come back already so he could see his one good reason to be alive.

-

The room was very bright, much to Hermione's shock. The brightness of the room, however, turned out to be the least shocking thing about it. Sitting in the back of the dungeon were three cribs, all of them very clean and new looking. To top it off, standing right next to them and placing pillows embroidered with the three infants names, was the Dark Lord. It was almost too much after the highly stressful night, and Hermione nearly had a laughing fit that would have caused her to drop the Potters.

Voldemort looked up, his face a stark contrast to the caring activity he was currently doing. His lips were twisted into a smile that would have made any number os serial killers proud, his eyes blazing, and his nostrils flaring from anticipation. "I knew you'd bring them," he said cooly.

Hermione had to resist the urge to step away from Voldemort as he approached—he smelled rather like bad eggs. His long fingers traced Michael's face, stopping briefly on the boys scar-free forehead. Voldemort suddenly grabbed Michael out of Hermione's arms and cradled the child.

The Dark Lord let out a high-pitched laugh that made all three babies let out whimpers and Hermione cringe. One by one, he took the Potters from Hermione and put them in their respective cribs. Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "How did you know which was Rosetta and which was Alli?"

"Did you not see their lockets? No doubt a gift from their dear..._father_." Voldemort spat the word "father" like it was something dirty to say.

"Now, as you have so admirably filled your end of the bargain, it's time for me to do the same." Voldemort pulled out the small phial he had shown Hermione before, and a long scroll of parchment. Hermione stared at the parchment curiously, and Voldemort answered the unasked question. "This is what is going to guarantee yours and your families safety."

"What exactly does it..." Hermione's voice trailed off as the official parchment was pushed in front of her.

_By order to Lord Voldemort, Supreme leader of Britain and all her isles, the undersigned are hereby cleared of any and all charges against them, and granted full rights as long as they are to obey by the following:_

_Work at assigned job_

_Send children to assigned school_

_Live in assigned areas_

_Do not, under any circumstances, mention_ _the existence of the Order of the Phoenix or any of its deceased members_

_By disobeying any of these terms_, _amnesty will be forfeited and the punishment will be **death** to all of the undersigned and their children._

Hermione looked up. "This means you'll leave us and our families alone...forever?"

Voldemort eyed her coldly. "It means exactly as it says. You will become nothing more or less than normal people, who must abide by my laws. Make certain that every member signs, else I _will_ kill. Now, leave and take your potion with you as well."

Hermione stood, being very careful not to look at the triplets, and grabbed the parchment and phial. "Oh, and Mrs. Weasley?"

Hermione turned to look at Voldemort, who was now by the cribs again. "You will not mention your end of the deal, yes?" She paused, but nodded curtly and left.

-

Christmas at the Burrow that year was exactly like Ron thought it would be—somber and dreary. Hermione turned up very early, arriving just as Ron had impatiently apparated there from her flat. Molly had done a huge meal, far too much food for the amount of people there. When Fred tentatively pointed that fact out, his mother just eyed him like he was the crazy one. "It's for your siblings, they'll be here any moment."

The rest of the Weasley's, of course, never came.

The real highlight of the evening came when Hermione's water broke. Before she would allow them to take her to St. Mungo's however, she pulled out the parchment. They all eyed it warily until Hermione stated that it was there only option. Mad-Eye shook his head in disgust at Hermione and left. Ron picked up the quill first and signed, followed by Fred, and a very confused Molly. Tonks stared at it for a moment, and then shook her head no. "Remus wouldn't ever have worked for this man, and neither will I," she said simply, and walked out into the night. Hermione picked up the quill and signed. The four Weasley watched Errol fly away with the document and then rushed Hermione away.

The next morning at about six, three very important things happened. Voldemort received the owl and set off to kill Mad-Eye and Tonks, Ron got word that both of their bodies had been found with wearing shocked expressions, and Hermione gave birth to a healthy baby boy named Daniel.


	6. Chapter 6: SleepStabber

A/N: Welcome to the first of the chapters to be set in the future! Sorry about all of the background stuff on the first page— it's necessary

**Chapter Six: Sleep-Stabber**

* * *

****

During the next sixteen years the Wizarding World changed greatly. Under Voldemort's rule, somewhere in the realm of 800 new laws had been passed, 300 of them carrying a punishment of death should they be broken. To help monitor the people, nearly every single witch and wizard was to live in Wizarding communities. Four such communities had been established throughout Britain, each with the ability to hold over a hundred families. One of these communities, called Serpia, held the richest of all the people. Generally speaking, these were Death Eaters and their families, but a few groups of people from the ministry also lived here. Nobody could enter the place if they didn't own a home there, and the most secret of all activities happened there.

The least popular town had an official name that nobody could ever remember, so everyone just called it "Dirt". This place was full of tall buildings that housed all people of muggle descent and squibs, with only a few exceptions. The few small houses always had very dark drapes on them, and on the few occasions a resident was seen leaving, they were always in Death Eater robes. This was the town nobody wanted to be caught in—people went missing all the time, their bodies never found.

The last two communities, one called Salazar and the other Gaunt, were home to the middle-classed families. These were the people who had pledged loyalty to Voldemort, but weren't Death Eaters. Both places were identical, and both had very harsh law enforcement. It was in Gaunt where Fred, Ron, and Hermione had ended up. Fred was married to Angelina, but neither of them actually spoke anymore. Hermione and Ron were doing much better than that—after Daniel they had twin daughters, Virginia and Harriet. While the marriage was far from perfect, both Ron and Hermione had learned to coexist with each other and with their memories of happier times.

Inside of the perfectly ordinary house labeled "9", Hermione and Ron had raised their kids and lead out most of their adult life. The floors and walls were made of terribly cold stone, and no amount of magic seemed to be able to make the house feel like home. One of the 800 laws said that no photos could be hung anywhere in the house, and that any decoration at all had to be OK'd by one of the law enforcement families that lived in the area. It really was too much hassle for the Weasley's to deal with, so the house remained bare.

Sixteen year-old Daniel hated his bare house. He hated his sisters and their freakiness, hated his parents and the way they acted around the Death Eaters, hated his Grandma (one of the few who didn't live in a community) because of her depressing dottiness, hated his Uncle Fred and his annoying wife, and especially hated the 800 highly-annoying laws he was forced to follow.

As Daniel paced his room, he let out a growl of frustration. To be honest, he was one of the lucky kids. There were two wizarding schools; Slytherin Academy, and the British School of Sorcery. Slytherin Academy was the more private of the two, and all the graduates from there got amazing jobs straight out of school. The kids at the British School of Sorcery would be lucky to get jobs at all. That's where most of the muggle-born and middle-classed ended up, trapping them in terrible jobs, just like their parents.

Not Daniel, though. Daniel and his two younger sisters all attended Slytherin Academy, a feat that not many in Gaunt could claim. Still, Daniel was not a stupid boy, and knew that his living situation was terrible. The only thing that kept him from losing his mind was the fact this was the last day of vacation. Soon, he would be back at school with his friends, none of whom he could be in contact with during the summer for various reasons.

It was very early in the morning, but Daniel could already hear Harriet. She was walking down the hallway, crying. He poked his head out his door and saw that she was clutching a rather long knife in her hands, a very scary thing indeed. He bounded out of his room and followed her down the stairs. He found her sitting on the ratted old sofa, the knife poised as if the stab somebody standing in front of her. _Only my sister,_ Daniel thought bitterly, _would sleep-stab._ As he approached, his sister began to talk in a very panicked voice that was not her own at all.

"Please...no...please...I'll...I'll...I'll kill you!" The knife stabbed at the air, and his sister whimpered, curling into a ball, knife on the ground. Daniel was far too used to the oddity of Harriet to be startled, instead moving to pick up the twelve year-old girl to put her back to bed. As he approached, however, she screamed and jumped off the sofa.

Daniel's eyes widened in horror— there was blood streaming down Harriet's face. She grabbed him by the shoulder and began to sob "They..they...they..." she said, unable to talk properly through her tears. He pulled away from her, trying hard not to stare at the blood.

"Who," he asked. "What's going on, Harriet?"

Harriet stared at Daniel like she had never seen anything like him in her life. "They've killed her," she said simply. She picked up the knife to put it away, cleaned off the blood, and went to bed. Daniel just stared, open mouth, after her. He really did hate his sisters, he decided.

By noon that same day, Harriet had forgotten what she had said and Daniel had stopped caring. "Have all of you finished your work?" Hermione asked, looking positively exhausted— she worked the night shift and had gotten up only to help her three children pack. Daniel and Harriet nodded, but Virginia just carefully looked away. Hermione glared at the oldest of the twins.

"I'll finish it tonight Mum, give me a break," she said in an angry voice. Before Hermione could open her mouth to protest, Ron came bursting in the front door.

Ron still had his shocking red hair, still had those blue eyes Hermione had fallen in love with, and was still impossibly tall and skinny. If it wasn't for the slightly receding hairline and the abundance of wrinkles and old scars, he could have passed for his old, care-free self. He surveyed the scene, his eyes resting on Hermione's angry face. Without asking a single question, he headed back out the front door.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the living room. Clever little Virginia took the moment to rush to her bedroom to finish her work. Daniel stared at the closed door. He knew his parents fought, of course, but things seemed to get worse the closer school got. Both of Daniel's parents seemed to hate sending he and his sisters to the Academy, but Daniel couldn't figure out why. Although it was true that the place was patrolled by Death Eaters, so the chance of getting away with anything was zero, and it may be true that the punishments there were quite severe, and it was true that Daniel's friends were not the most respectable of all people...

Ok, so maybe Daniel could figure out why, but it didn't matter. He had to go to school, and he was going to the best one in Britain.

Daniel eyed his mother as she cleared the lunch dishes and moved to the sink. His mother screamed and turned around, staring accusingly at Daniel and brandishing the bloody knife Harriet had used earlier.

"Have you been cutting yourself Daniel?" Hermione asked angrily.

Daniel's eyes flickered to Harriet, who had her usual passive look on her face. "No mummy," she said, "that was me. My face bled and dripped on the knife this morning, I'm sorry."

A second silence fell over the kitchen. "Why was your face bleeding," their mother asked weakly.

Harriet just smiled and left. "Admit it, Mum: Harriet is creepy." Daniel said.

Hermione just glared and shooed him away.

Ron came back home at around six that evening, with all of the school-things for his three kids. Daniel was done packing by eight, and decided to go and help Virginia with her homework. When he walked in the room, however, he found a terrible sight that made him let out a choked scream; the walls were coated in blood, and Harriet was standing in the middle of the room, licking her blood-stained fingers.

Harriet spun around when Daniel tried to scream the second time. There was something sinister about her eyes, something he had never seen again. Before Daniel could open his mouth to ask her a single question, she laughed.

"I told you not to touch my sister," she snarled, in a similar voice as the one he had heard that morning.

"I've never touched Virginia!" Daniel exclaimed, and then froze. "Virginia," he mumbled. He walked over to Harriet and shook her. "What have you done with Virginia?"

Harriet began to laugh, but her face promptly blank and she fell to the floor. Daniel yelled to Virginia, his eyes never leaving Harriet. To his shock, his sister answered the call. "What do you wan—WHAT IS ON MY WALLS? WHAT DID YOU DO TO HARRIET??" Virginia roared. Daniels' protests were lost in his throat as Ron entered the room.

Ron just stared at Harriet on the ground, not reacting in the least to the bloody walls. He shook her, and her eyelids snapped open. Daniel stared, not knowing what he was seeing meant, but knowing from the look on his Dads face it was serious...

Harriet's eyes were emerald green.


End file.
